


You Can Snog Me Any Time You Like

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The British Government and the DI [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Biting, Body Harness, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Feeding, Flogging, In Public, Kneeling, Leashes, Light Sensation Play, M/M, Pinching, Punishment, Sounding, Spanking, crawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft slips off to work despite having promised Greg he would stay home for the weekend. Greg takes corrective action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The morning after the pair returned from the manor, Greg awoke alone. He hunted and called out for his boyfriend, but there was no sight of him. He shot off a text, but didn't get a response until over 3 hours later.

_Had to go into the office - MH_

_Without telling me? And what happened to there being no crisis this weekend? - GL_

This time there was no response.

_You are in trouble when you get home_

At the first break he had, Mycroft looked at his mobile and sighed. He should have woken Gregory and told him that he had to go in to the office, he would have understood. Now he faced an angy boyfriend (Dom?) when he got home. Truth be told, Mycroft wasn't certain what rolls they were taking today, though he wasn't quite ready to take back the reigns as Dom.

His phone buzzed again.

_And don't try and say you didn't know you were my sub_

He picked it up and glanced at the screen. He had said that work wasn't busy and he would be around as long as Gregory was. Well Gregory clearly was… bollocks!

Mycroft bit his lip. If he really insisted, he could be the Dom again right this minute, he was certain of that, but he didn't want to, not if that wasn't what Greg wanted. There was nothing for it. The latest crisis having been averted via mere paperwork, he had to go home and face the consequences.

He glanced up at Anthea in the other room. If she was to speak to Gregory… he would find out that it had only been paperwork…

He sighed, even if they both wanted to Dom… changing just to get out of trouble was highly unfair.

“I'm off, Anthea. It's just-”

“Don't worry, sir. I understand. If I had someone like your Inspector Lestrade at home, I wouldn't be here when I was supposed to be on holiday. Your driver is already waiting.”

He sighed yet again and grabbed his coat. “I'll see you when-”

“When you see me,” she finished. She pointed out the door with her phone. “Go!”

Greg had eaten and gotten dressed. He was in the living room watching telly when he heard the door open. He only moved to turn off the TV and pick up the flogger he had laying across his lap.

“Gregory-”

“Nope. What did you do to me when I refused to come home on time?”

“I punished you, sir.”

“Quite correct. You did. But you had to get one up on me and go in to the office in the first place.”

“I-”

“What's your excuse? Nationwide crisis?”

“Not as such, no.” Mycroft held out a placating hand. “Please, Gregory. This taking time off from work thing. It's new to me. I felt like I should be there.”

Greg folded his arms. “What did you do to me when I tried with the excuses?”

“I punished you, sir,” he repeated.

“And what happened when I argued?”

“You got it worse, sir.”

“Quite. So for such a lame excuse do you think I should lay off?”

Mycroft hung his head. “No, sir.”

“Good. Now get that suit off, hang it up in our room and come back here.” Greg pointed at the floor. “Right here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mycroft ran off up the stairs and Greg made a point to step back a few paces. Using Mycroft's domming tactics to aid him, he laid a trap for the older man. Mycroft had set him up to fail, so he'd do the same.

The sub came back down the stairs in just his underwear, he moved to kneel in front of the DCI, not where he had ordered.

Greg shook his head, tutting. “Dear me, pet. How unobservant of you. Your brother would be ashamed.” He walked around his sub to where he had been stood just a few minutes ago. The Dom pointed at the floor. “This is where you were meant to kneel. Now what are we to do about that?”

Mycroft looked up at him unsure whether to be angered or amazed at the Dom's ingenuity. He moved to where the DCI was now pointing. “I'm sorry, sir.”

Greg had been toying with the flogger this whole time. It wasn't a harsh implement, but it did have quite the sting. He walked around Mycroft a few times. The fourth time around, he pulled back his arm and brought the flogger down on his sub's back.

Mycroft grit his teeth, determined to do as well as the DCI had last week when he'd been rather stern with him.

Greg kept at it until his boy's back was uniformly pink. When he stopped, his arm was aching. “You know, I should take a class in shibari. I've experienced it, but I don't know the first thing about doing it.”

“I'm sure John could show you sometime, sir. Or perhaps I could demonstrate on my brother.”

“Or perhaps you can go and get me a beer and then kneel in front of me all bright red and shiny.”

Mycroft swallowed once and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

As he started to get up, Greg called out, “You know better than that!”

Mycroft crawled into the kitchen and got a beer, then he crawled back and knelt in front of Greg, handing him the bottle.

“Turn around,” the DCI ordered and pressed the cold bottle between Mycroft's shoulder blades.

Mycroft hissed, not sure whether the Dom was trying to help or make it worse.

“When I'm done with this beer, I'm going to have you pick your favourite plug and cage, see if that can remind you of our joint rules,” Greg informed him.

That didn't sound good at all to Mycroft. He knew exactly which toys Greg was referring to. The plug, in particular, he was nervous about. It was made of metal and was hollow on the inside so it could be filled with warm or cold water, or even ice.

Mycroft knew arguing wouldn't get him anywhere. It had never helped Gregory after all. “Yes, sir.” He was glad he was facing away.

“Now bend over, I need your nice hot back to warm my feet.”

Mycroft winced as Greg crossed his legs at the ankles and propped his feet on his back. It didn't really hurt, but it certainly drove home his position as sub. He kind of liked it, but he realised his vulnerability even more than what the weekend had enlightened him with.

“Sir?”

“What?” Greg's voice was mock irritated.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, pet.” Greg drew his feet back and pushed his sub over, then rested them on his bum. “That's better. Beer's almost gone.” He waited until the last of his beer had been drained. “Upstairs with you. And get rid of those pants.”

Mycroft pushed himself to his feet and then stopped himself. He fell back to his knees and headed to the stairs.

Greg watched him with a fond smile, then he drank the last of his beer and set it aside. He climbed the stairs slowly, anticipating what he was going to do to Mycroft. Greg had fancied a morning fuck and had been denied one. His sub was going to make up for it now.

Mycroft was knelt beside their bed, his head low and hands behind his head. The DCI let his hand drop to his hair and he let it linger for a moment.

“On the bed for me, pet, face down, hands above your head. I'm going to tie you down, fuck you silly and then find your favourite friend from the cupboard. Well, two friends, if we include the little cage with a sound in that I snuck back from the manor.”

Mycroft did as instructed, biting his lip at the wave of arousal that swept through him. It was all that he could do not to rut against the bedclothes.

Knowing from his own experience what his sub was likely feeling, Greg swatted Mycroft on the arse. “I know you want a bit of friction, but don't even think about it.”

“No, sir, of course not, sir.”

The DCI slipped cuffs around Mycroft's wrists and ankles. He spread his legs wide going so far as to use the rope at the edge of the bed rather than from the bed points to get the maximum spread, at least until he had opened him, prepared him a bit.

The older man jolted, grinding his teeth together.

“Do you want a gag, boy?”

Mycroft huffed. “Yes, sir,” he answered quietly.

Greg went to the toy box and selected a gag, a large dildo shaped one, and tossed it down next to his boy's face. He climbed on top of Mycroft and, pulling his head back, he looked into his eyes. Then he picked up the gag and shoved it into his mouth, buckling it in place.

Greg pinched his nose for a moment, waiting for his eyes to flicker up to him again. When Greg didn't see worry or panic there just knowing patience he smiled and moved his hand to cup his cheek. “Your submission really is a gift, babe.”

Mycroft blinked slowly and turned his face into his Dom's palm, grateful for both the contact and the praise. Greg let his hand linger there for a moment before pulling it away and letting his pet's head fall back to the mattress. He made himself comfy again and did the same as before by jerking his finger into Mycroft's hole. “Relax, boy, or this is going to be a lot harder.”

The sub tried, he really did.

“I think I might cage you before I fuck you, I don't think you deserve your own pleasure today,” he twisted his finger around for a bit.

Mycroft had hoped that wouldn't occur to the DCI, but he should have known better. Greg was already an excellent Dom, despite having only been at it a short period of time.

Greg continued to stretch him however, adding a second finger then a third. “Good boy,” he soothed when he climbed off the bed, “I'm just going to dig up the cage so don't go anywhere.”

Greg found the cage with no problem. He went back over to the bed and dropped down on it, bouncing a few times just for fun. “I suppose I'll be forced to untie you. I can't very well get to your cock with you like this.”

Mycroft was actually looking forward to his legs being released, they weren't comfortable as they were.

When Greg untied him he ordered him up on his knees. Reaching between his legs he grasped his hardening cock. “I was only playing with your tight little hole and you're already waking up down here.”

Mycroft replied with a muffled 'mpf' of consternation. His cock was definitely awake and it did not want to go into a cage. He shifted his hips, trying to communicate his reluctance.

“I don't care if you don't like the idea, in fact, that's entirely the point.”

There was another 'mph'.

“Well it's clearly ice for you if you can't control yourself.”

Mycroft's burgeoning erection wilted, but not enough.

Greg climbed off the bed, opened the mini fridge they kept in the bedroom, and grabbed an ice pack. Wrapping it in a flannel from the nightstand, he pressed it against the problematic area of his pet's anatomy.

Mycroft thrashed.

“Hey! I'll just tie you back up again.”

“Mph!”

“God, it's like talking to a toddler.”

Mycroft let out a multisyllabic string of 'mphs' meant to communicate his displeasure at being compared to a toddler - it was his brother who behaved that way.

Greg ran his ice cold hand along his boy's cock. “Oh, Myc, we spent the whole weekend with John and your brother, we saw how much he showed you up!” The Dom pinched the head of his boy's cock before letting it go and picking up the cage. “Flip over, boy. I know, it'll be uncomfortable with you having your arms crossed and all to do it.” He shrugged. “But who cares.”

Mycroft was starting to regret his 'yes, sir' when Greg had asked if he wanted a gag. He could have clearly discussed his position and he would not have been called a toddler.

The Dom helped roll Mycroft over onto his back, then reached and spread his legs wide. The ice pack made another appearance and Greg simply set it on his sub's cock, then he sat back and looked at Mycroft's face. It was definitely a scowl, he'd even go so far as to say it was a scowl of Sherlockian proportions. “I know you hate the cage, but you get punished for breaking the rules.”

The sub huffed out a breath around the gag, his eyes closing in resignation. They flew open a moment later at the slap of the DCI's hand against his thigh.

Greg lifted the ice pack and considered his pet's shrunken cock. “Perfect. It looks ready to lock away to me.”

Mycroft was shaking his head.

“Ah, I love watching you struggle for me, but it's not going to stop me, Boy, you should know that.”

Greg lifted his boy's flaccid cock in hand and put both cage and sound in place. He was careful to take all safety precautions to reduce the risk of any unpleasant infections.

“How's that, boy?”

Mycroft was still scowling.

“You know how pretty you look like that? Your cock and your face.”

Greg tugged on the cage, then played idly with Mycroft's bollocks. He watched as the skin over them shifted and moved in response to his touch. Greg bent over and began sucking on his cock through the cage, tugging at his balls as he did. Mycroft's broken whimper came around the gag.

The Dom stood up. “I'll be back. Sometime.” He stepped out of the room and leaned up against the wall in the hallway. He was just about as hard as he ever got. When he went back into the room, he'd have to put on a cock ring if he didn't want to come the moment he got into Mycroft.

He peered through the crack in the door. Mycroft was tugging at the cuffs, trying to find a way out of them or turn over so he could rut against the sheets.

Greg went back into the room. The sight of him standing there, arms crossed, made Mycroft's eyes go wide. For one wild moment, the sub wondered why he liked this so much as fear coursed through him. No, he realised, it wasn't fear, it was anticipation.

“Are you being a naughty boy?”

Mycroft frowned, but shook his head.

“Are you lying to me?”

Greg watched as the older man's shoulders sagged.

The DCI had grabbed a cock ring and slipped it on himself. “I told you, I'm going to fuck you into the mattress. Now flip back over and get your lovely arse in the air.” As Mycroft struggled to comply, Greg slicked himself up.

Mycroft still hadn't managed to turn over so Greg grabbed his cock and tugged until he struggled a little harder. When he finally managed it, Greg pushed him up onto his knees.

He immediately plunged two of his still slicked up fingers into Mycroft's hole to give it one last stretch. When he pulled his hand back, he gripped Mycroft's hips firmly and lined himself up with his boy's entrance. “Are you ready, boy?”

Mycroft refused to answer, burying his head in his pillow.

“Hey, boy, nod for me.”

Mycroft didn't.

“Sulking, you little brat, will not get you anywhere.”

Greg thrust in deep and froze, enjoying the tight heat that engulfed his cock a moment before he started moving again.

“Oh, pet, you feel so good and I'm going to take my time fucking you. When I'm all done, I'll put that plug of yours in your fucked out hole and maybe I'll leave you here for the rest of the day.”

Mycroft tugged roughly on his cuffs, absently sucking on the fake cock in his mouth. He wished it was Gregory's, his Dom's was warm and forgiving and… his boyfriends.

At least it was Greg's cock filling his other end, for now. It was a magnificent specimen and the DCI was quite good at wielding it to take him apart. Mycroft could almost wish to stay like this forever. Almost being the optimum word. With the cage on, his cock and the sound deeply embedded inside him, his pleasure was right at the bottom of the Dom’s list of activities for the evening.

The DCI felt himself nearing orgasm despite the cock ring he was wearing, so he pulled out and leaned over Mycroft's raised arse and waited until he had himself better under control.

Mycroft was struggling like mad, thrashing and thrusting.

“Oi! Pack it in.” He slapped his hand down on his arse.

“Mph!”

“You aren't in pain, boy, so you must just be being a little shit.”

Greg plunged back into Mycroft's hole so hard that he pushed the sub towards the head of the bed. He gripped Mycroft's hips hard after that to keep him in place.

The groaning and fidgeting didn't stop. Greg decided to make this quick so he pulled out quickly, got rid of the ring and thrusted back inside, finishing inside his pet almost immediately, the amount of sensation too much.

“You seem to be after the plug too much.”

Mycroft shook his head in the negative. He wanted Greg, not the plug.

The DCI climbed off the bed and got the large metal plug, he began lubing it up immediately. He didn't know if he was going to put anything in the inner chamber or not. He pressed the cold tip at Mycroft's entrance… “Just think, if you had been patient and let me take my time, you wouldn't have got an orgasm, but you might have got away with this, as I was likely to just fall asleep.”

Mycroft shivered, feeling frustrated, but completely owned. He hadn't felt less like the British Government in years. He was nothing more than Greg's toy. The sound he made around the gag managed to convey all of that.

The DCI laughed. “Oh, boy, you're making some lovely noises today.” He stepped back and disappeared for a moment. He reappeared with a jug of icy water.

Greg opened the chamber on the plug and poured water into it. It couldn't hold much, but what it did hold would chill the plug for a while. That was by design as it wouldn't be enough to lower Mycroft's core temperature, just make him uncomfortable.

The older man began shifting again immediately. “Mir!” he tried yelling.

Greg just laughed. “You are going to be quite a show today, my boy, aren't you?”

This time, when Greg put the plug to Mycroft's entrance, he pushed. It made its way slowly into the sub, stretching him around its girth. He paused with the widest point breaching the ring of muscles. Another little push and it would be seated which would be far more comfortable than it currently was. “Should I stop, pet?”

Mycroft refused to answer, he couldn't help the bit of rebellious sub that seemed to jump out whenever he was in the most compromising positions.

Greg shoved it the rest of the way in anyway. “You know I expect you to answer me when I ask a question. Your mouth might be full, but you can nod or shake your head.”

Mycroft nodded.

“Better.” The DCI patted Mycroft's arse, then ran his hand over it. He pinched it here and there as he decided what to do next. Deciding, he pulled his legs down and straight, it caused the plug to shift and spark a light behind Mycroft's eyes as it hit that special spot.

Greg sat on the back of Mycroft's thighs and tapped on the plug, causing it to hit that spot a few more times. He kept playing with it, eventually running his finger around where it entered Mycroft. He pushed his finger in next to it slowly, barely getting the tip of his finger in. “I wonder if it would fit?” he asked himself.

Mycroft had fallen completely still. Greg watched for longer than he had planned. It therefore surprised the sub when he felt the plug easing out. The DCI got rid of the water, replacing it with more cold and then easing it in, this time even slower.

When Mycroft tried to squirm away, Greg bent and bit his right arse cheek, eliciting a sound that had undoubtedly started out as a yelp, but had been muffled by the gag. The DCI kept working the plug in as he placed a few more bites on his pet's blush arse. “All done,” he declared suddenly.

Mycroft was surprised at the sudden words, he couldn't be done already, wasn't he supposed to be being punished?

It was then that Greg had found the harness that matched the cage, he tugged at it around his legs, looping it over his pet's caged cock and then over the plug. He pulled it as tight as he could and then manoeuvred it around between his boy's chest and the sheets. It went over his shoulders and connected back to the plug.

He untied his boy's wrists and pulled him up onto his knees. A brand new set of unforgiving clamps were attached to his nipples, making him yell out in surprise. Lastly, the Dom hooked the clamps to the newly applied harness with a grin. “All comfy?” Greg asked as he reached up to unfasten the gag.

Mycroft worked his jaw as soon as the gag was taken from his mouth, then he swallowed. “Not really, sir.”

The Dom laughed. “Good. You're not supposed to be.” He tugged on the harness and pulled his boy in for a bruising kiss. “If you want to go back to work today, you can wear all of this under your damned three piece suit.”

Mycroft blushed. “I'll not be going anywhere, sir. Not without your permission.”

“Well you haven't got it.” He reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a leash, a small chain on one end. He connected it to the loop at the tip of the cage, it would conveniently jostle the sound deep in his cock whenever the DCI tugged on it, which he did immediately.

Mycroft scrambled off the bed to follow his Dom. His nipples ached, his cock cried out for attention, the plug that was in him shifted, adding its own brand of stimulation to the input that he was receiving. The sub almost wished John and Sherlock were there to see him. It would be tantalisingly humiliating.

“I think you should get dressed now, boy.” Greg pointed at the wardrobe, “You can thread that little chain through the zip of your trousers.”

“What do you want me to put on, air?”

“Well, you've not stopped complaining about how busy at work it is, you better get your suit back on, the whole thing… you never know when you might get called back in, after all.”

“That's...” Mycroft shivered with dark pleasure. “Yes, sir.” Maybe Greg would take him out like this. Walk him around the block or to the park. Mycroft could tuck the leash in his pocket under a long jacket and no one would know it was there, handing it to Greg if his Dom demanded it…

“I know what you're thinking, boy, I have developed the deductive powers of a Holmes, spending so much time with you and your brother. We aren't just going for a walk. We're going out for dinner. That expensive place just outside of London. You owe me, after all.”

“Yes, sir,” Mycroft would never refuse the opportunity to spoil his boyfriend, his lover, his Dom.

“We're going to have a shower first, you don't want to be the British Government in public like that, do you now?”

“No, sir.”

“Oh and boy, I've already texted Anthea to have a car ready for us at 6. It's nearly half 4, so, although we can enjoy it, we can't leave it too late because the car is picking us up from the club and we're nearly a mile from it.”

Mycroft looked at himself in the large bathroom mirror. The vinyl harness gleamed wetly as he moved, tugged along by Greg to the shower. It wasn't often Mycroft envied his brother anything, but he did wish his hair had taken the path Sherlock's had - growing into lovely, pullable curls instead of receding. At least Greg didn't seem to mind it much. Mycroft couldn't have let it grow, anyway, not in his line of work.

The DCI pulled Mycroft into the shower and pressed him down to his knees with a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay down there, boy. Little pets like you need to know where to stay.”

Mycroft leaned forward, pressing his face to his Dom's crotch. He more than expected to be pushed back, but Greg just grabbed the shampoo and started working it through the sub's hair. When he was done and wanted to rinse it off he tugged him up using the little chain.

“You're going to do that all night, aren't you, sir?”

Greg grinned wolfishly. “Damned straight.” He tugged the leash again just for fun. “Now you can wash my hair.”

Mycroft did so, though lifting his arms made the chain pull at the clamps on his nipples - they were hurting like fire. He ground his teeth together. “I can't remember at what point I thought it would be a good idea to kneel for you.”

Greg laughed, tugging the chain again. “That's 'sir', brat.”

The DCI shut off the taps, shaking his head like a dog as he did it. He chuckled as Mycroft closed his eyes, sputtering at the spray of water that went flying. “Towels, boy.” He put the leash over Mycroft's shoulder so the sub could go get them.

Sighing, the older man obeyed, returning with two big fluffy towels. He wrapped one around the Dom and then knelt to dry his legs. On impulse, Mycroft kissed Greg's feet.

The DCI giggled, dancing back. “Ticklish,” he explained as he took Mycroft's leash back in hand. “Alright. Now we can get dressed.” The Dom used the leash to pull his boy along, cock first. He pushed him at their wardrobe. “Pick me out something to wear,” he ordered. He had never asked Mycroft to do that before so was quite looking forward to whatever the older man came up with.

Mycroft picked out a grey suit, a colour that Greg wore often, but the suit was more expensive than the Dom's typical and it was no doubt bespoke despite Greg not having sat for a fitting. The shirt that the sub picked out was a brilliant dark blue.

The DCI let his eyebrows raise up in pleasant surprise. He leant forward and tweaked one of the clamps. “If I was you, Babe, I'd wear a slightly looser shirt than normal.”

Mycroft bit his lip at that, then hung his shirt back up and selected another one. It wasn't his normal white, but a dark, opaque grey one.

“Better,” Greg said, nodding his approval. He sat on the bed, deciding to watch his boy get dressed.

Mycroft blushed a ridiculous shade of red as he slipped into his shirt. The vinyl harness felt different to the usual leather. It tugged in all the places it shouldn't do as he tried to fight his way into his pants.

As soon as Mycroft had finished dressing, Greg held up a finger and made a twirling motion. “Alright, let's see.”

The sub turned around slowly, his arms out raised. “Do I meet with your approval, sir?”

“Absolutely.” Greg grinned. Mycroft looked damned good. “Nothing's showing that shouldn't be. All I can see is that convenient leash.

Mycroft bit his lip again.

“Don't do that, pretty boy,” Greg grabbed the older man by his tie. “I don't know why I'm bothering with that, when this is perfect.”

“Oh I don't know that, sir.” He reached out and snagged Greg's own, he looked surprisingly good with just a shirt and tie on. “I think it could be an unhealthy competition else.”

The DCI tugged on the leash hanging from his trousers. “You can let me go, brat. You're my boy tonight.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

Tugging him closer by the leash, Greg kissed his pet. “You did such a good job of dressing yourself, you can dress the rest of me now.” He relaxed his hold on the leash.

Mycroft's knees gave way and he sank down into a kneeling position. Looking up at Greg, he leaned forward and kissed his Dom's hip.

“I should have left the shirt off too, would have given me another chance to snog you rotten.”

Mycroft stood. “You can snog me any time you like.”


	2. Chapter 2

Greg grinned as Mycroft approached the maitre d'. It was interesting watching the government official's very deliberate and reserved motions. He was clearly trying to minimise the shifting of the items he wore beneath his suit.

“Reservation for two,” Mycroft said in a slightly higher pitch than normal.

“Hello, Mr. Holmes. You are in the far corner. I've heard it's your favourite place to dine.”

“Oh, thank G... thank you. That will do quite nicely.” Mycroft smiled, trying to cover up his slip. He held out his arm to Greg, who took it, and they allowed themselves to be led to their table.

Two menus were placed in front of them.

“Is this a celebration, sirs?”

“I suppose it is, yes,” Greg grinned.

When the waiter disappeared to get champagne, Mycroft looked over at him. “What are we celebrating?”

Greg shrugged. “Dunno. Does it matter, pet?”

Mycroft gave a shiver. “Of course not, sir.”

The DCI waved his hand in the air, then placed it under the table. “I believe your leash is in your pocket. I'd like to have it now.”

“Sir…”

“Problem?” The DCI raised an eyebrow.

Mycroft shivered again. “No, sir,” he whispered as he placed the leash in Greg's hand.

Greg gave it a little tug, knowing it was pulling on Mycroft's caged cock. It was such a power trip and incredibly naughty. But it wasn't even that that made it so fantastic, it was that his lover was giving it to him freely. It was a gift that the DCI understood, being a switch himself. That did nothing to diminish its effect on him. He tugged it again as the waiter walked up beside them.

He poured two glances, thankfully not glancing at the British Government and the blush covering his face.

Greg didn't let that pass. “Would you please order for us, Mycroft?” he asked in his most innocent tone.

The government official swallowed hard, then told the waiter their order, his face growing redder by the moment. It didn't help that Greg tugged the leash at random moments to fluster him further.

“Of course, Mr. Holmes. Is there anything the matter?”

“No,” he squeaked. “That'll be all, thank you.”

The moment they were alone, Mycroft dropped his head to the table which was a mistake as it jarred his nipple clamps something wicked.

“My poor boy.” Greg reached over and petted his pet's hair.

“Now sit up like a good pet.”

“Sir-”

“Good pets don't argue, Mycie. Sit up like a good British Government and do as you are told. Or I'll keep tugging. Your choice.”

Mycroft sat up. Greg kept tugging.

“Sorry,” the DCI said with a lopsided grin. “It's addictive.” He forced himself to stop. Besides, he was starting to get uncomfortable in his trousers.

“It's your choice, sir.

“Oh yeah,” he tugged once more and then placed the leash in his own pocket without Mycroft's knowledge. “I don't go back on deals though Mycie, not when you've been a good little pet.”

The government official shivered again. “Please don't say that anymore,” he whispered, blushing harder.

“What will you give me in return?

Mycroft's face had gone from slightly strained on the journey here to positive crimson. He looked around to be sure they couldn't be overheard. “The most mind blowing orgasm you've ever experienced in your life, sir.”

The DCI raised an eyebrow even as their starters was placed in front of them.

“Thank you,” he looked to the waiter and nodded. He waited until they were out of earshot again and grinned, licking his lips.

“I'll be sure to inform you of my answer by dessert, my good little pet.”

Mycroft couldn't help it, he squirmed in his chair. It caused everything under his suit to tug in interesting ways. “Gregory, sir,” he moaned.

“Eat your food, Mr. Holmes, this is only the first course.”

A low groan was emitted from the older man. “You are far too evil to even comprehend, sir.”

Greg smiled, leaned forward and stole Mycroft's fork. He used it to snag a bite off of the other man's plate and offer it to him.

The acting sub opened his mouth and let himself be fed. It felt as if the rest of the world had faded away.

It wasn't long before the starter was over.

Greg found himself glad that the government official had given their entire order the first time round, it meant they wouldn't be distracted for a while. And, damn, but Mycroft was distraction enough. The DCI toed off his shoes and used his toes to feel his pet's caged cock. He was starting to think he'd have to leave his boy here and sneak off to the loo for a quick wank.

“If you do, sir, can I come with you?”

Greg smiled. “I love it when you do that. It's like you really are reading my mind.”

“I don't actually do that, sir.”

“I know, you observe. So, what do you observe now, pet?”

“Your eyes, Gr... sir, your pupils are blown, your pulse is elevated and you're breathing so hard and fast.”

“Even faster now, pet.”

“Yes, sir.”

He shivered again. “Can we just go home?”

“No!”

The two men looked at each other, the tension between them growing deliciously. Greg crossed his legs and settled his feet in Mycroft's lap.

The remains of their starters were cleared away and their main dish was served.

“Sir, please,” Mycroft moaned as the DCI shifted his feet against the cage at whatever opportunity he could.

“Problem, my gorgeous good little boy?”

“Yes, sir. You are maddeningly attractive and distracting. If it weren't for that c...” Mycroft looked around them, “my situation, I would have... 'arrived at my destination' long ago.”

Greg burst out laughing. So much so that the couple occupying the nearest table, that was still quite a distance away, looked over.

Mycroft blushed again. It was possible he had done so more this one evening than he had done in his entire life up to this point.

“You know, that's a very good look on you, pet,” Greg observed.

“Stop it!”

Greg laughed. Again.

“Stop it!” He repeated a little quieter. “Please.”

“You are even cuter when you're flustered.”

Mycroft took up his fork and stabbed a bite of his entrée. He hesitated a moment, then held it up as on offering for his Dom.

Greg smiled. “Aren't I meant to be feeding you?”

Mycroft shook his head and forcefully pushed the forkful between his lips.

“Eat, sir, it's good for you!”

With a shake of his head, Greg let himself be fed. “Maybe I should let this be your regular job when you're subbing for me. You could do it naked at home.”

Mycroft growled as he shivered yet again.

“Can we go on to the dessert now?” He whimpered.

Greg toed his cock again.

“No.”

Biting his lip, the sub groaned.

“Just look what I've done to the British Government. I feel like the most powerful man in the world.”

“Oh Gregory, you so are.”

Without the DCI realising, Mycroft had pulled the leash back and hidden it in his pocket.

He suddenly stood up and walked out.

Greg's mouth fell open and he jumped up to follow his sub. Mycroft would pay for that when they got in the car. However, the DCI didn't say a word until they pulled up outside their flat.

Mycroft had found the journey a little confusing. He was waiting for a rant or some response but he hadn't had one.

Until now.

Greg walked around the car, reached in and grabbed his ear.

Mycroft flinched, but didn't fight it when he was dragged from the car. “Gregory, it couldn't be helped. You were driving me mad. I had to get us out of there and somewhere more intimate.”

“And if I had just stood up and walked out of meal when you were acting as my Dom what would you have done?”

“I… I wouldn't have been impressed, sir,” he sighed.

Greg had pulled him inside. “Well I wasn't impressed. Strip.”

With a swallow, the sub started removing his suit. He was afraid he had made a serious error in judgment.

“Gregory, I really really needed to get you on your own.”

“Are you whining like a brat now?”

“No! I mean… I'm sorry, sir, but at least we don't have an audience now.”

Greg smiled. “Hmm, fair point, but I am the one meant to be in control. Now finish removing your clothing, boy.”

Sighing in defeat the government official stripped the remaining of his suit and placed it over a chair.

“Drop.”

He sank to his knees, not daring to look up at the Dom. The rather gorgeous when flustered Dom. The Dom who was removing his own clothing.

Mycroft closed his eyes, daring to hope the evening hadn't been ruined, after all. His eyes flew open when the DCI removed one of the nipple clamps and his hands flew up to comfort it only to be batted away by his Dom. He winced.

“Put your hands behind you, Mycroft.”

“Sir…”

“Don't make me cuff you!”

The sub complied, grabbing his left wrist with his right. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the other clamp being removed.

“Open your eyes, pet.” Greg waited until he had done so, then he twisted the clamp before removing it.

Mycroft's shoulders hunched as it was removed but all he succeeded in doing was tugging everything in all the wrong places.

“Are you going to punish me for just walking out?”

“Mm hm,” the DCI hummed as he sat and used the vinyl harness to pull Mycroft up and over his naked lap. He rubbed each globe of the sub's arse cheeks on either side of the vinyl strip that separated them.

Mycroft swallowed awkwardly. “Sir,” he moaned. “You wouldn't do what I wanted! I had no other choice!”

The sub jolted as his right arse cheek suddenly stung.

“That was an especially brattish thing to do. It's the kind of stunt your brother would have pulled. I've of half a mind to give you the spanking you deserve, take all these lovely toys away from you and send you to bed. Untouched.”

“Sir, no, please no.”

“That is what you deserve. But I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you the spanking you deserve, tease you rotten and then send you to bed. Untouched.”

Mycroft dropped his head in defeat, that was better and horribly worse. As the blows came down on his arse, he grabbed Greg's ankle and tried to be stoic about the whole thing. It didn't work.

He shifted and moved his arse growing uncomfortably red and hot whilst his cock did the same… stuck as it was in its little prison.

When Greg finally stopped delivering the spanking, he didn't dump his pet from his lap onto the floor, instead he leaned forward and started placing tender kisses to every heated inch of heated flesh.

Mycroft had completely frozen. Confused. He would never admit that, for obvious reasons, or the fact that he was enjoying this.

The DCI reached around and found his boy's cage with his hand. He shook it, chuckling softly as he played with the tip with his finger.

“Christ, Gre... sir. I think you may drive me mad.”

“If I do, it's your own fault, pet. I should have attached that leash to my belt so you couldn't have run away.”

Greg played with him a little longer while he glanced at the clock. Now he did tip him off his lap.

“Put your suit back on.”

“Sir?”

“Now, boy.”

Confused but not willing to anger the DCI any further he obeyed.

He watched as Greg went to the door.

“Now I'm admitting to being confused.”

“You interrupted our dinner.” Greg grinned. “So we're going out for dessert.” He didn't have the leash attached to the cock ring, though. Instead, he looped it around Mycroft's wrist. “Is this okay?”

The sub looked down at the leather encircling his wrist and thought of being seen like that in public. “Oh, Gregory, sir, yes!”

In a way Mycroft was glad that the Dom chose a quiet restaurant. One no one would expect the British Government to dine in. He couldn't let his cock do the thinking, he had to let the Dom. Greg seemed to still be in his right mind, which is why he chose a much more subtle destination.

“You will be teased rotten when we get home. And you will go to bed without release.”

Again, they were sat in the corner. Greg requested a large dish of ice cream, six different flavours and only one spoon. He fully intended to be the one in control of the rest of the evening.

As soon as the waiter had left, Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Ice cream, sir?”

The DCI didn't answer just tugged on the leash at random intervals.

After a quick glance around to see that no one was watching, Greg pulled the leash over the table and tugged on it until he could rest his hand on his pet's wrist. “What if someone should notice? Would you really mind?”

Mycroft ignored the question. He wanted that thing attached back to his caged cock. It felt just as invigorating but much more pleasurable.

“No answer, pet?” Greg cocked his head to the side. “Interesting.” He shoved the bowl of ice cream aside and tugged Mycroft close enough to press their lips together. “You miss me toying with your caged cock, don't you?”

Being in such close proximity to the DCI was doing nothing for his straining erection.

“Yes, sir.”

Greg pushed the spoon between Mycroft's lips. “Eat. Ice cream is healthy.”

The government official's laughter was smothered by the spoonful of chocolate ice cream. When he had swallowed it he shook his head with mirth. “Healthy, sir?”

“It provides dairy and protein.”

“And sugar and fat.”

Greg shrugged. “Yeah, well, you can't have everything, can you?” He raised his foot and toed at the older man's restrained cock.

Mycroft opened his mouth in a gasp and the DCI shoved a spoon full of ice cream in it, then he took a bite for himself.

“Aren't you the cute one, Mycie?”

“I don't do cute. It isn't in my mood settings.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, now eat.”

Mycroft swallowed reluctantly.

“I quite enjoy being a baby sitter.”

At that, the sub spluttered adorably. “Sir! I am not a child! That's the other Holmes.” He stuck out his bottom lip.

“Them why are you pouting, my dear little boy?” When Mycroft tried to pull away, Greg pulled him near by the leash around his wrist. “Now, now, don't make daddy raise his voice in public.”

The older man squirmed. “Daddy,” he whined before he realised he'd done it.

The DCI grinned. “Look at my pouting little boy.”

Mycroft face planted right then and there. Of all the things he had learned about himself, this came as the biggest shock. He wasn't even sure he could look at his Dom.

Greg ran his fingers through his boy's hair, trying to soothe him. “It's fine, babe, it's all good. Let me do this, be this for you.”

Mycroft was shaking his head against the table, moaning incoherently. “Don't wanna.”

The DCI pulled £10 out of his pocket for the ice cream and the drink and pulled Mycroft to his feet.

He led him from the restaurant and to the waiting car like a reluctant toddler. Once in the car, he tucked the sub's head under his chin and wrapped his arms around him. Greg knew he has hit upon something tender, something precious. “I want to be this for you. It doesn't have to be all the time. We can still play rough, you know.”

Big puppy wide eyes look up at the younger man, but Mycroft didn't speak. It was like he had completely recessed to a younger age. He buried his head under Greg's arm as if to hide.

The DCI smiled, feeling a tender protectiveness towards Mycroft. Suddenly, his plans for the evening changed dramatically. He decided to get his boy home, strip him down, cage included, put him in his warmest flannel pyjamas and tuck him into bed with a cup of hot cocoa. Hell, he might even sing him to sleep if his boy were amenable.

When they reached home Mycroft was asleep.

The DCI tried not to jostle him too much as he scooped him up in strong police man arms and headed towards their apartment.

Mycroft whimpered as the stairs creaked beneath them.

“Shh,” Greg whispered. “Although, you may want to wake up because you get hot chocolate if you do.”

The sub woke just enough to cooperate with Greg undressing him. He made a surprised sound when the harness came off and the look on his face was comical at the removal of the plug and cage. Mycroft bit his lip. “D... Daddy?”

“Yes, Mycie?”

“I thought I was in trouble.”

The DCI fetched Mycroft's flannel pyjamas. “You're a tired little boy, Mycie. Now you be a good boy and put these on and I'll go make you some hot cocoa and bring it back.”

The now much younger Mycroft had managed to wrap himself up in the entire duvet. He had enough space to peer up at the DCI as he came in the room.

“Look at you all snuggled up.”

Mycroft bit his lip and squirmed. “Is it okay, Daddy? I didn't mean to steal all the covers.”

“Well, if you want this cocoa, you'll have to share.”

Mycroft nodded and scooted sideways under the duvet so there was room for Greg.

The DCI slid in beside him and handed one of the two mugs he was carrying to his boy. “Now be careful, Mycie, it's hot.”

Mycroft nodded accepting the mug. He couldn't understand how the evening had had such a dramatic turn in events. He bit his lip nervously. How was Greg ok with this? He wasn't put off in the slightest. In that moment he was reminded just how much and why he loved the other man so much.

He sipped his cocoa and snuggled into Greg's side feeling happier than he had ever thought he could. “Daddy, I love you,” he said shyly.

“And Daddy loves you,” Greg replied. He loved every single aspect of the man who was Mycroft Holmes. He loved this childish, vulnerable side, the willing sub, the demanding Dom, the caring brother, the competent government official, the lover, the steadfast and loyal partner. Greg loved Mycroft Holmes and that would never change.


End file.
